


give me roses, give me pain

by realityrewind



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, Love Confessions, M/M, Near Death, Nightmares, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Unrequited Love, Vomiting, not really vomiting but he's coughing up flowers sooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 15:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityrewind/pseuds/realityrewind
Summary: Over the next few days more flower petals came, much to Jay’s confusion and dismay.The problem was that he couldn’t understand why this was happening to him. Tim had never mentioned coughing upflowersas a symptom of whatever the hell they were infected with. And yet, they kept coming..   .   .Jay has a good ol' case of hanahaki disease





	give me roses, give me pain

Jay was in bed, finishing up some last-minute editing, when it started.

He had stolen a glance at his companion, who was reading a book he had picked up at the dollar store they had stopped by earlier in the day. The dim light had softened the usual furl of the man’s brow, the bags under his eyes. Tim almost looked content. Jay smiled, one so faint he hadn’t noticed it himself.

Then the coughing started, which in itself wasn’t too strange. Ever since he started his investigation into his friend’s tapes, he would be randomly hit with coughing fits.

The strange part was when he felt something in his throat.

He tried to keep is panic down, but with each cough the _thing _in his esophagus fluttered, threatening to choke him.

Tossing his blankets off, he ran to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Jay?! You okay?” He hears Tim through the door, but he can’t reply.

He stood over the sink, painfully hacking, trying to get whatever was in his throat _out. _

Finally, he heard a wet _slap_ in the sink. He was still trying to catch his breath when he dared to look down. It was…a flower petal? With a little bit on blood and spit.

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. There was no way it was a flower petal. No way.

And yet, when he opened his eyes, there it was. He reached down, plucking the petal between his forefinger and thumb. A rose petal.

“Jay?” Tim’s muffled voice was filled with worry.

Jay felt his chest twinge, threatening more coughing. Somehow, he kept it down.

“I’m okay,” he said, his throat scratchy.

. . .

Over the next few days more flower petals came, much to Jay’s confusion and dismay.

The problem was that he couldn’t understand why this was happening to him. Tim had never mentioned coughing up _flowers_ as a symptom of whatever the hell they were infected with. And yet, they kept coming.

He decided to just ignore it as best as he could.

. . .

The day after the petals started, they moved motels. Jay was too paranoid to stay in one place for longer than a few nights, and Tim went along with it without any argument. Jay appreciated it more than he could find the words for.

Jay trailed behind Tim, through the winding highways and near-abandoned backroads. His mind wondered to his partner in all this. Tim has seemed extra concerned about Jay that morning, voicing his worry about the night before. Jay had brushed him off, wanting to get on the road. But now, with the paranoia subsiding the further they got away from their last location, it was all he could focus on. He hadn’t had someone to worry about him in a very long time.

His thoughts were interrupted by an ache deep in his chest, followed by a scratch in his throat.

_Not again. _

Fear gripped his heart, as he was driving damn near 80 mph on a semi-busy highway. Unfortunately, he was helpless to stop the painful hacking his body was being wracked with. All he could do was try to keep his eyes on the road. A strangled cry escaped him as one, two, three, _four_ rose petals passed his lips.

“What the fuck?” he asked himself miserably.

. . .

It was a few hours later, after they had settled into the new room, when it happened again.

It was just so cold. The temperature was uncharacteristically low, and the motel’s heater was doing fuck all to actually warm the room. Jay was curled up as tightly as he could be, under the thin blanket on his bed. Even with how cold he was, he couldn’t bring himself to wear his hoodie. They hadn’t been able to do laundry for quite some time, and it was just too dirty to wear.

“Jay…?” Tim started.

“Hmm?” He answered through clenched teeth.

“Here.”

He rolled over to see Tim standing over his bed, red flannel he was wearing earlier in his outstretched hand.

“Oh, no, Tim. You’ll be cold.”

“Seriously, Jay, I’ll be fine. You obviously need it more than I do.” He threw it at him.

Jay sat up, shrugging it on. He haphazardly tried to button it up, but his hands were still shaking from the cold.

“Let me do it.” Tim reached down and started buttoning the shirt for him. Jay felt his breath catch in his throat. It was very intimate, closer to another person Jay had ever been. He felt himself warming up, and not just because of the added layer.

“There. Now go to bed.” Tim smiled lightly at him, then moved back to his own bed.

Jay touched his face softly. It was hot.

Then he felt a stabbing pain in his lungs. He took in a sharp breath, and flopped over, curling in on himself once again.

“You okay?” Tim asked.

“I’m fine!” he squeaked out, somehow keeping the painful coughs from coming up. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to go to sleep.

. . . 

When he woke up, he was surrounded by rose petals. They were on his pillows, down his shirt, under the covers, _in his hair. _There were about 20 petals all together.

Thankfully, Tim had gotten up early to get them a few groceries, which gave him time to clean it all up.

. . .

He had to figure out what the hell was happening to him. After getting rid of the petals (as well as clean off dried blood on his mouth, so that’s a thing that’s happening now), he sat back down on the bed with his laptop. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to see if he could find anything online, though so far, he had assumed it had to do with his current situation. He stared at the search bar for a few moments, unsure on what to search. In the end, he went for the straightforward, _coughing up flowers. _

He got a surprising amount of results.

He clicked on the first link, titled _Hanahaki Disease_. A tiny spark of hope came alive in his chest. Perhaps it was a real thing, a real thing he can be treated for.

** _Hanahaki Disease: A fictional disease in which the person afflicted grows flowers in their respiratory system. Said person will cough up flower petals, an often-painful side effect. _ **

Well, that sure sounded like what was happening to him. If he wasn’t already being chased by an eldritch horror, he would have been deterred by the ‘fictional’ part of the definition. His situation was an example of things he previously thought impossible, possible. He tried not to panic about roses growing in his lungs and read on.

** _This disease is caused when a person experiences a deep, one-sided love. _ **

“I’m sorry, _what_?” he screeched out loud.

_A deep, one-sided love?!_ No, this had to be wrong. He wasn’t, he wasn’t _in love. _Who would he be in love with?

His thoughts traveled to his companion, Tim. Jay knew that he once had a teeny, tiny, super small crush on the man back in college. But love? He focused more on his friend. Tim, who was always there for him, even at his most unreasonable. Tim, who worried about his wellbeing, who gave him the shirt off his back. Tim, who had _really_ nice eyes. And a cute smile. And strong arms that could hold him _perfectly-_

Jay coughed up a few petals and a bit of a stem.

_I’m in love with Tim._

At once, he knew this to be true. He kept coughing, and more and more petals kept coming up. His diaphragm shuttered and he wrapped his arms around himself pathetically. He heaved a few deep breaths, finally getting a hold of himself once again. He reached back for his laptop and scrolled down, hoping to find some sort of treatment.

** _Hanahaki Disease only ends if their beloved returns their feelings, or when the person dies. Some say that if the infection is removed (via surgery), the victim will be cured, but will lose any feeling they ever had, or ever will have, for their beloved. _ **

Jay felt his blood run cold.

_Oh fuck._

He slammed his laptop shut, mind racing to figure out how he could _not_ die from this. Since this disease isn’t real -or not supposed to be real- he figured doctors wouldn’t know how to treat him. Which could end with him dying anyway, plus he couldn’t afford any medical work either way. _Which meant_, unless he can somehow get rid of the feelings he had for his friend, he was going to die.

If he didn’t realize until just now that he was in love with Tim, maybe that meant the feelings weren’t very strong. He could get rid of them. Yeah, he could totally do that.

He spent the rest of the time he had alone coming up with a plan.

. . .

Now, there was only so much he could do to distance himself from Tim, considering that the two of them were working together.

So, he could do two things. The first step was to simply stop looking at Tim so much.

Once Tim got back with food, they ate in relative silence. Jay kept his head down, never looking directly at the other man. He then spent the rest of the day going through footage, checking his twitter notifications, and watching the last totheark video again (He still couldn’t figure out what it could mean).

Jay was proud of himself. He hadn’t looked at Tim all day, and he hadn’t had a coughing fit once.

“I’m going to bed.” Jay announced. The sun had only set a little while before, but he was exhausted. He supposed the rose bush in his ribs probably had something to do with it.

“Okay…?” Tim replied, sounding confused. “Jay, are you…are you sure you’re okay?”

Jay’s chest tightened. “Yeah, I’m just tired.” He kept his back to Tim.

“If you’re sure.” Tim didn’t sound convinced.

Jay didn’t see the hurt look that crossed his friend’s face.

. . .

The second step of his plan was only talking to Tim when absolutely necessary.

Which was a lot harder than he thought it would be. He didn’t realize how much he and Tim actually talked. It was a way to keep them feeling safe, like there was someone there for them.

And Jay was feeling so alone.

This disease was draining him. He was still so tired, and every so often he felt short of breath. His chest was now constantly aching, and he was so sick of the smell of roses. He craved comfort and companionship.

But the person who could give him that is also the person that’s inadvertently killing him.

Tim had tried a few times to start a conversation, but Jay steadfastly stuck to his plan, and only responded in one- or two-word sentences, if he responded at all.

The other man seemed to have given up. Jay thought he had heard a _Whatever _under Tim’s breath, but he dared not look at him. Tim stomped over to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Jay flinched, feeling awful.

But he had to do it. He had to survive. For both of their sakes.

Tim had gotten in the shower, and Jay took the chance to pack a small bag with his laptop and charger. He snagged the camera that wasn’t recording the room off of the room’s desk and went out the door. He had to get away from Tim, he had to stop the pain in his chest.

He found the local library, went inside and found a quiet corner to stay in for the next few hours.

About half an hour after he arrived, he received a flurry of texts from Tim.

Tim

_where did you go?_

_jay where are you_

_please respond _

_are you safe_

_JAY_

He let out a small, frustrated whine. Why did Tim have to care so much?

_i’m fine._ He responded. _be back later_

The librarian glared at him as he tried to cough as quietly as possible. A few tears streaked down his face.

_It hurts. _

_. . . _

Jay finally headed back once the library closed.

It took him a few tries to get the door to their room open, exhaustion making his vision blurry.

The moment he got in Tim rushed the door.

“Where have you been?” Tim demanded. “I went out to look for you but I couldn’t find you, I-“

“Library.” He croaked out, looking at his feet. “I need to go to bed, can you move?”

Tim stepped out of his way wordlessly. Jay stumbled to his bed, dropped his bag, and fell into it, face first.

He was asleep before Tim could say anything else.

. . .

He awoke in the forest. It was the dead of night, and he could barely see around himself. The trees leered over him, and the air felt heavy.

_Why am I here? What happened?_

Jay moved sluggishly and his vision seemed to be lagging moments behind. He brought his arms around himself and shivered. This forest-Rosswood, he realized-was freezing.

Jay’s chest _hurt. _More than hurt, it positively _ached_. His lungs felt as if they were being torn to shreds from the inside out. His throat burned as if he had been screaming for hours. He doubled over and squeezed his eyes shut, gasping for breath.

“Jay!”

_What was that?_

“Jay! Where are you?”

_Tim? _

He took off in the direction he thought he heard Tim. He had to find him, Tim could help him. Tim would take the pain away.

“Jay?”

Somehow, he ran into Tim. How did he find him so quickly? They were in a clearing, with orbs of blue lighting up the space. It looked unreal. It felt safe.

“Oh, there you are.” Tim smiled at him.

“Tim! What’s going on? Why are we here?!” Safe or not, Jay needed to understand what was going on. 

Tim’s face changed; head cocked. “Jay, why are you bleeding?”

Jay looked down to see blood dripping down from his face, onto his clothes and onto his shaking hands. His vision blurred further.

“Help me! Tim, help me!” He screeched out, yanking on Tim’s shirt.

Tim laughed and pushed him away.

He laughed, and laughed, sounding fake and full of malice.

“Why would I help you?” he said, grinning.

The orbs of light around them turned red.

“You’ve done _nothing_ but make my life worse!” He stepped forward, their faces inches apart. “Nothing but a _thorn_ in my side,” pushed Jay on the ground.

“Tim, Tim, _no_-“ Jay coughed out, kicking his feet to get traction on the ground. He needed to get away. “Tim, _I love you!_ Why are you doing this?!”

“Oh, you _love_ me? If you loved me, you never would have ruined my life! You’re disgusting, Jay Merrick,” Tim put his boot on Jay’s chest, slowing forcing his weight onto it. “And you are going to _die_.”

Jay was coughing

And coughing

And choking

And wheezing

He can’t _breathe_

He opened his eyes and realized Tim was no longer anywhere to be seen. He was alone. And yet, the pressure was still on his chest, it was _in_ his chest, and it _kept building_.

Something was scratching his throat. Something was coming out of him.

He clawed at his neck, trying to draw in a breath.

His mouth filled with something.

He reached in and yanked it out; a rose. He took in a shaking breath.

But his mouth kept filling, breath cut short.

He pulled more and more flowers out, but they kept coming. The scent of roses was overpowering.

They came faster and faster, he could no longer keep up with them. They poured from his mouth, from his nose. Flowers and leaves and stems and thorn-filled vines. He kicked and pounded his fists on the ground. Tears flowed from his eyes, his sight going dark.

He was going to die.

** _“JAY!”_ **

His eyes snapped open.

. . .

He’s thrashing against the hands that hold him, pure adrenaline and panic running rampant in his body. He can’t breathe.

“Jay, Jay! It’s okay, you’re okay! It’s me!” Tim cried out.

It’s just Tim, the _real_ Tim. Tim was right there and Jay was in their motel room and he _wasn’t dead._

“_Tim_!” He cried out and shot into Tim’s arms.

And he’s crying and breathing and heaving and Tim was _holding_ him and he was clinging to Tim even though it made his chest hurt more but he was just _so scared_.

“It’s okay, you’re safe. It’s okay.” Tim was whispering into his ear and rubbing his back in soothing circles.

“Tim, I was _dying_, I-“ he broke off with a strangled sob.

“You’re right here with me, you’re okay. You’re not dying.”

It could have been a few minutes, or it could have been hours for all Jay could tell, but he finally calmed down. The pain was only increasing, and he swore he could still smell those roses. Tim laid him back onto the bed carefully.

“Jay, you look really, really bad.” Tim said. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Jay croaked.

Tim put a hand on Jay’s sweaty forehead, and he felt himself grow warmer at the care Tim was showing him, stabbing pain in his chest aside. Even with his body deteriorating, he still yearned for the man above him.

“You’re burning up. Jesus, Jay, why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I couldn’t, I couldn’t-“ Jay’s coughing started up again.

“Is this why you’ve been acting so weird? We’re supposed to be there for each other, how can I do that if you don’t tell me what’s going on?”

The stabbing pain increased, and Jay took a sharp breath in.

“You can’t help me. I’m dying, like _really_ dying, Tim. I tried to fix it myself, but it didn’t work. There’s nothing you can do. Nothing either of us can do.”

“What? Don’t say that! I’m taking you to the hospital!” he shouted, panic evident in his voice.

“But you hate hospitals.” Jay wheezed out.

“I need you alive more than I hate hospitals, Jay.”

“Why? You’ve done this without me before and you can do it again after I’m gone,” he grimaced and clutched at his chest, gripping the fabric of his thin t-shirt tight.

“No, I can’t!” Tim shouted, grabbing at Jay’s other hand.

Jay’s eyes went wide, then he coughed and coughed and coughed. He whimpered, spitting out an entire flower head.

“What the fuck?! Jay, what’s _happening_ to you?”

“Told you,” every breath he took in was labored. “I’m dying.” Jay turned his face away. “I’m so scared, Tim.” He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn’t hold on anymore, he just wanted the pain to _stop. _His face went slack.

“Jay? Jay! No, no, no, no, no. Wake up! You can’t die!” he pulled Jay’s hand to his face, tears of desperation leaking from his eyes. “I need you! Please! I-I…I love you, Jay! Don’t leave me!” He held jay’s hand tighter and sobbed.

Moments passed, only Tim cries kept the room out of complete silence.

“You…you love me?” a tiny voice interrupted his grief.

“Jay!?” He looked down to see his companion’s eyes open weakly. “Jay, oh my God. Keep your eyes open!”

Jay began coughing again, and panic flashed on both of their faces. He hacked for nearly a minute straight, hands around his mouth. When he finally stopped, he opened his hands to find a small seed in his palm.

“You love me?” Jay turned his head back to face Tim.

“Yeah, I-, I wasn’t ever going to tell you but, I-well, I mean-“

“You’re _in love_ with me?” Jay was growing healthier looking by the second, to Tim’s shock and amazement.

“Yes! Jay, what’s going on?”

“Tim!” Jay sat up, laughing breathlessly. “You love me! I’m not going to die!”

“Maybe we should still go to the hospital…?” Tim looked at Jay as if he had grown another head.

“No, Tim listen. You _literally_ just saved my life. I can breathe again!” He pulled Tim into a crushing hug. “I had a weird disease that the internet said was fictional but apparently it’s not, or at least it’s not for me.”

“What disease? How do you know you’re okay now?”

“It’s called Hanahaki Disease. It develops when you have feelings for someone. But if the person you like doesn’t reciprocate, you die.” He pulled out of the hug. “But you love me, so I’m cured. Guess getting that seed out means my lungs are cleared up.”

“That sounds like something out of those weird Japanese comic books Alex used to read, and I would not have believed you if I didn’t see you almost die.” Tim said, deadpan. His eyes suddenly widened. “Wait, that means-“

“I love you too,” Jay confessed shyly. “Though I didn’t really realize how much until I started coughing up flowers.”

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me? You were trying to what? Get rid of your feelings?”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t think you’d ever love me back. I was hoping I could just. Not have those feelings anymore. I didn’t think they were so strong.”

“Jay, you are an _idiot_.” Tim cupped Jay’s face. “But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Can I kiss you?” Jay blurted out. His cheeks turned red.

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Wait, you don’t have any more flowers in your mouth, right?”

“Oh, shut up.” Jay smiled into the kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> dropped a hint that alex kralie is a fuckin weeb and leaves 
> 
> anyway, i hope you liked the fic! you can find me on tumblr at realityrewind! come yell abt marble hornets with me


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